


Dancing in Grief

by EssayOfThoughts



Series: MCU Maximoff Oneshots [41]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dancing, Gen, Grief, Grief Management, post-AoU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5976922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, when they were younger, the twins would dance together, to whatever music they could find. It calmed Pietro's jitters and soothed Wanda's mind.</p><p>Without Pietro Wanda dances still, and tries to find the calm it used to give her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by listening to _[Fortune Days](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hbAUwi4D3Ew)_ by The Glitch Mob. That is, incidentally, the music I imagined Wanda dancing to for this fic, and the music I listened to while writing.

**Dancing in Grief**

 

Vision usually arrives right on time, rather than early, but for all that he is not expecting to see Wanda when he arrives in the training room. There is music playing, and her eyes are closed. Around her her scarlet is dancing, rising up into an almost humanoid form.

Like perfect partners she dances, small steps in a twisting circle, almost a waltz, with the figure made of scarlet. The music changes, odd twists and hip movements and arm motions are added into the dance, even the scarlet form doing them also. Looking closer Vision sees the form is taller, slightly, than Wanda, and as the music changes again it stays twitchingly still as Wanda spins outward in darting little steps, wrists moving in twists up and down, fingers twitching only slightly as she guides the scarlet still to hold.

The music changes again, a touch deeper and Wanda stills, arms out and her fingers move only the least amount as the scarlet dances instead, twitching movements as before, but certain, a counterpart to her dance before. The music changes _again_ and the scarlet’s arms and Wanda’s are intertwined, waltzing dartingly again, moving over the floor in small circling twists.

The music arcs up and Wanda is lifted into the air and Vision can see the tears on her face as her eyes stay closed. She moves to the music, matches the scarlet, and does not once open her eyes. Vision can see her mind, rich a red as blood within her skull, and can see the scarlet darting to the music while Wanda’s hands move in tiny twitches her arms moving in steady sways to the beat, directing the scarlet as it moves like a person.

They draw close again with the music, a disjointed waltz now, alternating as the music does between melodic and rhythmic. Wanda’s movements are perfect, scarlet catching her if she should trip and scarlet gliding where the feet do not quite form on the ground. Scarlet and Wanda dancing, and as the music gains an odd note Vision thinks he can hear Wanda’s mind keening in sorrow.

Their movements are still darting as the music softens and they still utterly as the music silences at last, Wanda’s head tilting forward to rest on the shoulder of the scarlet. Vision is barely quick enough to stop her falling as the scarlet form dissipates.

“Wanda?” he asks, as her eyes blink open.

“Oh,” is all she says. “I did not know you were here.”

“No,” Vision says. “Your eyes were closed.”

“I was imagining,” she says. “Remembering when I would dance with P-” Her voice cuts of, a sob chokes out.

“With your brother,” Vision says. “Your scarlet moved like he did.”

Wanda nods, eyes tight shut, tears still beading in her lashes.

“It was beautiful,” Vision says. “Sad, I think, but beautiful. Like the music but moreso.”

“Grief is not pretty.”

She can almost hear the smile in Vision’s voice but his honesty cuts through it. “I did not say it was pretty. I said it was beautiful. Beautiful does not have to be good or happy, I think.”

Wanda does not respond. She does not mind how Vision is holding her arms, gentle and reassuring, making sure she is stable before he finally lets go. Wanda stumbles her way to the steps, sits curled up, legs to her chest, hands wrapped around her ankles. Vision considers for only a moment before joining her.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and his voice is soft. “I should not have disturbed your dancing.”

“Grieving,” Wanda says. “It’s grieving.”

Vision considers, considers the mournful note of the music, the way Wanda’s mind keened as the music sang out and cannot help but agree.

“I am sorry,” he says, because he cannot say anything else to that. Wanda is still curled small, shoulders shaking with small hiccupping breaths, and Vision realises that _this_ , this grief-dance of hers before training is why she seems tired or red-eyed when they all arrive, channelling the worst of the emotions out so she can train in calm. He reaches gently out, and softly touches her shoulder. Wanda shakes slightly more, but does not flinch, does not move away, and he lets his hand rest more firmly.

“If you would like,” he offers, “I could dance with you? I have never danced before, and would like to learn.”

Wanda glances up to him, dark eyes still tinted with a touch of red somehow captured in the tears yet to fall. Vision is painfully aware that she may well reject his offer, may consider dancing something for her and her brother and no one else, or find it too dear a thing to share just yet, but he is just as aware that she may yet accept his offer, may consider moving on as important as holding to the grief so painful he could hear her keening sorrow.

“Perhaps,” Wanda says, and it is a whisper. “I do not know just yet.”

Vision is careful to make his smile even gentler than usual, and lets his thumb skim lightly over her shoulder in a soothing stroke. “That’s perfectly all right,” he says. “The offer stands, if you ever wish to accept it, just as the invitation to my mind does.”

There is something new in the smile Wanda offers back to him, and Vision thinks that maybe Wanda has realised just how honest and open he is willing to be, that his offers of aid and openness wait for acceptance but do not need it immediately. For a moment there is a glimpse of her teeth, nibbling on her bottom lip uncertainly. “Thank you,” she offers at last. “For catching me, and for the offer.”

The smile on Vision’s face widens without his consideration, naturally spreading into a genuine one of happiness. “You are quite welcome, Wanda,” he says. “Would you like to begin to warm up?”

He lets his hand slip from her shoulder to rest in the space between them, palm up. An offer, like all his words, open and honest, and waiting for acknowledgement without needing it.

He smiles still wider as Wanda takes his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always much appreciated!


End file.
